Six months have passed since my dad decided we would become an “iphone family.” Though I cringed internally at what I thought to be an ostentatious display of wealth, I accepted his gift with a smile, knowing the pride he takes in providing nice things for his family. Now I can single-handedly access my email, pay my bills, update my facebook status, and settle my roommates’ debate about whether Wednesday night will bring us a new episode of “Glee.” Tasks that would have previously been put off until I reached my Macbook can now be checked of my to-do list (carefully kept in my “notes” app) on the walk from St. Rob’s to U Hall. Yes, I can fill even that ten minute space with busyness. If a professor is late to class, I don’t have to make idle chit-chat. I can spend those ten courtesy minutes sharpening my aim with the single-bolt rifle on my deer-hunting game while we wait (unless he’s a full professor; then he gets fifteen minutes).
In fact, thanks to my iphone, I never have to talk to anyone in person again. If I pass someone I know on my way to class, I don’t have to waste time by stopping to ask how they are doing; a text message will suffice. If I’m lucky, I’ll be so absorbed in typing it that I will miss the next few friends I pass. They’ll understand - it is an iphone, after all.
Yes, thanks to my iphone, the need to spend time with other has been drastically reduced. I can spend more time doing things that are really important. I don’t even have to spend time with myself. Gone is the time I’d to occupy my thoughts finding my passions or pondering the meaning of life. I have instant access to a store with over 30,000 apps to distract me!
Thanks to Apple’s precise engineering, I can feel my phone vibrate in class at just the right frequency so as not to alert my professor. Little does she know that my look of concentration is not directed toward her wise words, but rather is a direct result of me racking my brain to figure out who has contacted me as I count down the seconds until class is adjourned and the mystery is solved.
My iPhone has become somewhat of an addiction. The answer to any question I have is at the tips of my fingers. The mouth of my curiosity has no time to water; I gorge my self on Wikipedia before the question is fully formed in my mind. Instant information gratification.
There’s no doubt that this convenience is a useful gift of the age in which we live. Yet I can’t help feeling as though I’ve lost something. What is it? Awareness? Likely. Human connection? To a certain extent. Mostly, I think it’s the ability to be lost - in a way that can’t be fixed by typing an address into Google maps. No longer am I lost in thought. A mind constantly occupied has no room to wander. No longer am I overwhelmed by questions, lost in a search for answers. And I’m certainly not lost to anyone who knows the sequence of those ten digits. I am constantly available to anyone with the whim to use them.
Vacation from my phone is an strangely telling experience. In its absence, I first feel odd, panicky, disconnected. It’s not until after I adjust that I notice the freedom. It’s an ironic feeling, considering that all I am supposedly missing is convenience. The striking absence of the weight I used to carry, however, indicates how quickly my technological assistance has become a ball and chain. Without it, I notice a lightness. I notice the smell of the flowers as I cross the bridge to U Hall. I feel the way the sun hits my back on a walk by the Bluff. I also notice a brave solitary squirrel triumph over a pack of rabid raccoons and scamper off to celebrate his victory. I glance around in amazement to see if anyone else has noticed one of history’s greatest wins for the underdog (no doubt just behind David beating Goliath and the Rod Sox winning the 2004 World Series). Alas, they have not; their attention goes only as far as the distance from their fingertips to their phones.
- My first opinion piece, published in the Los Angeles Loyolan, 2008.
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